


The Path of the Strong

by Checquers, xxELF21xx



Category: Helix Waltz (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Dysfunctional Family, Emotionally Repressed, Family, Family Feels, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Grand Duke Bavlenka should Try Harder, Hugs, Not Beta Read, Two Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-22
Updated: 2019-03-22
Packaged: 2019-11-27 16:29:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,839
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18196592
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Checquers/pseuds/Checquers, https://archiveofourown.org/users/xxELF21xx/pseuds/xxELF21xx
Summary: Lou walks a dark path, filled with loneliness and high expectations.





	1. The Light At The End of the Tunnel

**Author's Note:**

> This work is cowritten between Cakequakes and I! They wrote the second part (GD's POV), while I wrote the first part (Lou's POV).

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lou opens up a can of worms.

‘Lord Lou, what are your opinion on hugs?’

Such a question threw her off. Magda Ellenstein usually didn’t breach such personal topics, it was almost as if… Lou’s eyes turned to gaze at her younger sister, a brow raised. Nyx’s own reaction was one of similar confusion (and excitement, it wasn’t every day that Lou initiates contact with her. It’s… been a while.)

Lou feels obliged to tell the young heiress her true thoughts. How odd. Perhaps it was the earnest gaze, or the way Magda’s tone softened just a touch. The stand-offish answer she had in mind crumbles to dust, her mouth suddenly too dry. She itches for a drink.

Magda’s expression falls into conflict, and the girl starts to put some distance between them. Ah, she’d give her the wrong impression.

‘I’m sorry to have- ‘ Lou raises a hand to wave off the apology, lips quirking up slightly. Any other noble would have just skirted around the topic, but never truly apologise.

‘You’re not wrong to ask that question, Lady Ellenstein,’ she starts, trying to construct proper sentences that don’t involve her bursting into tears. Magda sucks in a breath, somewhat shocked that she’s getting an honest reply. ‘I like hugs, personally.’

Something akin to a stab of a sword pierces her stomach. If she had to place an emotion to it, the most likely one would be _guilt._ She loves hugs, yes, but she hasn’t hugged anyone in _years._ She felt like a pretender, wearing someone else’s clothes and saying someone else’s lines.

With a bated breath, she continues. ‘I like hugs, a lot more than I should.’ Magda tilts her head, not understanding how one can feel guilty about liking something. Lou feels a crushing weight on her shoulders, a migraine forming from the depths of her brain.

Lou had been a touchy person, using any excuse to be close with friends and family. When she was younger, she remembers very vividly tugging the hands of a young Gonzalo through her estate, picking him up like a doll and carrying him in her hands. She greeted Harson with wide arms and a huge grin, never shy to address him as an equal. Even towards Leslie, she was warm and welcoming, every lesson of sword fighting ended with words of genuine praise and a clap on the back.

With Nyx, it was… complex.

Her father had become a distant figure, more of a stranger living under the same roof than the warm man he once was. His expectations of her grew, compounding daily, the list of never-ending tasks taunting her even in her sleep. There was no rest for the strong. There was no room for complacency.

‘Be the best in Finsel,’ he’d said, expression closed off. ‘Take over the Spiral Spire, be a leader. Make your name strike fear and gain respect through it.’ She did as she was told, running back and forth from balls, classes and the Spire, striving to be someone that could take over the Bavlenka family name. There was never a doubt that her father still loved her.

Then Nyx arrived.

Nyx was a sunflower in her father’s garden, blooming with the love and affection she was denied. Every bit of love that once belonged to Lou had been given to Nyx without a thought.

Lou had to work for every bit of praise while her sister got it on a silver platter.

Regardless, she worked hard. She was the heir. All the expectations were necessary. Not once did she complain, grieving in the privacy of her bathtimes, stitching herself back up with every injury and every verbal sneer. As long as she could express herself with hugs and touches, it would be fine.

Nyx was a social crutch, as well. She made up for everything her father threw away. In the mornings, during breakfast, the young blonde would readily jump on her as a greeting. During her training, she would frequently spot Nyx trying to keep up with her, talking about anything interesting and entertaining her with stories of Harson and Leslie. In the evenings, before balls, the girl would pop by her room and help her choose matching apparels for them both to wear: bracelets, necklaces, shoes, even a brooch or makeup.

Lou came to love Nyx, in her own way. Nyx was living proof that her father still loved her deeply, cared for her. But because she was the heir, she couldn’t be burdened by such emotions. Nyx was a great relief for her, and she reciprocated every sign of affection she could, trying to channel the (little) love she had for her father through her.

‘Stop showing affection towards anyone. It will only make you weak,’ her father’s orders are absolute. She has to stop. No hugs, no touches, no praises. Nothing. She had to be strong. Friends were a fault, and a risk she cannot take. She cannot be weak. The strong rule while the weak wept.

Lou refused to cry any more.

From then on, she created a fortitude so high and mighty that nobody could ever see past the cold facade to know how she truly felt. Everything she did had an ulterior motive that served her goal of being the best. She cast away her friends, viewing them as enemies and potential allies instead; Gonzalo Jorcastle was someone that could potentially defeat her if he was focused enough in battle. Even Balfey, the most easy-going noble, could eliminate her if he tried.

No longer did she allow Gonzalo to chirpily greet her during balls and in the Spire, she doesn’t acknowledge Xavier, her students were but her students. They were nothing more to her, yet nothing less. Harson and Leslie were to be viewed as servants, and Motiti was just an Oren maid. She rid herself of everything that once stood in her way, feeling oddly empty.

It was as if she was being emptied from the inside-out, until she was but a shell.

And even _then,_ her father refused to show a sliver of pride, acting as though everything that she’d done was something she should have done ages before. Nyx had tried to argue that what their father had ordered was too much, but had been shut down as soon as she brought that idea up.

Lou hadn’t minded that she had pretty much nothing left. She still had Nyx, her sister.

‘You’re not allowed to be soft towards Nyx,’ her father had stated. A bitter, swirling storm brewed inside her, almost forcing her to raise her voice for the first time in her life. She had given everything away for him. Was she not allowed to keep her sister close?

Resentment curled up from the depths of her heart, sinking its claws and drying her body of blood. Numbness spread through her in a split second, layering her skin in a coat of protectiveness. ‘Yes.’ She replies, voice blank.

The Grand Duke takes a second longer to look at her, trying to figure out what was off about her, but she maintains her impeccable grace -- nothing will stop her. Not even the Grand Duke himself.

But even _then,_ Nyx finds a way to worm through the impossible fortress. She still tries to initiate skinship, adamantly sticking to Lou even with harsh words and cruel looks. Even then, Nyx had asked Magda Ellenstein to _befriend_ Lou.

And all she did was push everyone away.

Gonzalo and Xavier are baffled at the sudden cold temperament. They mention nothing, only sending her concerned looks, suddenly at a loss when the Lou they once knew completely disappears. They skirt around her, barely acknowledging her, nor do they initiate anything that involves her.

The Spire is a castle and she is its King.

 _Even then,_ Nyx could still find ways to soften her. She tells her worries to a confused and rattled Gonzalo, who immediately sets out to right the Grand Duke’s wrongs. ‘You don’t have to,’ he whispers to her, maintaining the awkward gap between them, ‘in balls -- with _me,_ you can be _you._ You are not just Lord Lou, you are my precious friend.’ There’s a shimmer in light eyes, a spark of anguish and anger, _hope._ Gonzalo knew her better than anyone else.

Gonzalo knew her. The real her.

It’s a weakness.

It’s a _strength._

The Spire is her _home,_ and she is a weeping daughter.

She spends more time there, digging into scrolls and dusty books. She pretends that the lingering contact between her and Gonzalo are ones of courtship, and not platonic. She makes up excuses, stating that there were additional lessons, that Gonzalo had asked her for help.

The Jorcastle says nothing when he sees the scars littering her abdomen when he walks in on her bandaging herself. Instead, he steadily helps her wrap them a little tighter, a lot safer. Quietly, he murmurs spells of recovery, nimble fingers dabbing herbal salves into blackened bruises.

They keep the mutual line of respect.

‘I like hugs,’ Lou reiterates, firm and proud. Magda’s expression melts from a stormy concern into a sweet, spring smile, eyes soft and filled with a certain kind of happiness. ‘They’re wonderful. A form of acceptance and co-dependence, I think. That one action is able to convey a million sentences and emotions, and it’s _amazing.’_

She feels electrified, _alive._ Warmth tingles from the tips of her fingers and the depths of her heart. The crippling weight on her back is lifted, suddenly gone. She hasn’t felt this _good_ about herself in such a long time, she’s forgotten how to smile genuinely.

Being _herself_ is fantastic.

‘May I hug you, Lord Lou?’ Magda asks, shy under her beaming gaze. It’s a little off, but surely, Lou can fix it.

‘Drop the formalities, Magda. Please, do call me Lou.’ She smiles wider, a slight red settling on her cheeks.

Magda _flourishes,_ glowing under candlelight. Within as little as a second, Magda has both arms wrapped around Lou, hands resting comfortably on her back. In return, Lou hugs the young lady back even tighter, body flush against Magda’s own, hands wound tightly into the girl’s summer dress -- apparently an Oren design.

Tears spring up in her eyes, a trail going down her face. Being this close to someone is a _treasure._ She doesn’t _need_ to be King, she has everything she wants right here; right now. Well… not everything, but again, that can be resolved just as easily. With Magda around, Gonzalo and Nyx are always nearby.

In under record time, the two of them stick onto Lou like glue, laughing in such _joy_ and _relief_ it shakes through her bones and etches itself deep inside her memories. ‘I’m so _glad,’_ Gonzalo whispers, voice thick. ‘I’m so, so glad, Lou. I missed you.’ She hums something back, clicking her tongue like she would back when they were young, watching the blush bloom across Gonzalo’s face.

Nyx clings to her back, chattering so fast her head spins. ‘Nyx, _Nyx,’_ she berates lightly, forcing the younger girl to face her, ‘oh, Nyx.’ She misses saying that name with such fondness, crushing her sister in the middle of this four-way hug. Her sister bubbles up, crying through ecstatic words.

The Captain, Alan, trails closer, worried. ‘Is there somet _hing-- ‘_ Gonzalo barely allows him to finish, pulling him deep into an embrace, trapping the poor boy between them. Alan yelps, apologising for overstepping his boundaries; but she flicks his forehead, laughing at how silly the boy is. ‘There’s no need, I quite like this,’ she admits.

She feels a heavy, disappointed glare burn into her, but she could hardly care as Hugh and Xavier crash into her at full force, yelling out in utter _glee_ and excitement. ‘Now _this_ is a ball!’ Hugh’s boisterous laughter draws several looks, but neither of them care enough to give a damn. Though shorter than her, he still manages to catch her in a headlock, starting a mini wrestling match on the dance floor. In the end, she manages to barely win.

Xavier’s not any better than Nyx, talking about how much he’s missed this, how much he hated the animosity. Black Shadow pipes up once or twice, mainly to expose how often Xavier cried after Lou became an icicle; but other than that, the demon remains respectfully silent. ‘I’ve prepared for this day,’ Xavier grins, producing a little crown-shaped brooch, glimmering a soft silver. ‘You once asked if it was possible to enchant a piece of jewellery to emit warmth, and here it is.’

In awe, she takes it carefully, pleasantly surprised at how good it felt against her skin. ‘Oh, thank you, Xavier. It’s lovely!’ She doesn’t hesitate to pin her shawl together with it, grinning so hard her face felt sore.

A shadow flits between the group, held still by Motiti. Starr Mayphis stares awkwardly at them, a steaming pie in his hands. Motiti drags him closer, heedless of his protests, ‘Lady Lou! Lady Lou!’ She shouts, proud of herself, ‘I’ve brought Mr Mayphis! His pies are very, very good!’ Starr groans loudly, hiding his face in his clothes.

‘I’m… uh… ‘ Starr stutters, thrusting the pie in her face, ‘it’s a new flavour! I thought… you might like it… and uh… eating pie hot whilst crying is… good…?’ Motiti yells at the last part of the sentence, angrily growling at Starr.

‘No, no,’ Lou pacifies, taking the pie, ‘it’s alright, Motiti. Thank you, Starr. Your pies are always great.’ And it does smell like heaven on earth. Taking a tentative bite from a pre-cut slice, she savours the rich yet tart flavour and perfect texture of the pie, feeling her face warm up. Hamilton, alongside the Elves, make their way to the group, drawn in by the aroma.

Willow gives her a sly smile, ‘hope you’re in for some sharing, Lou.’ Defiant, she sticks out her tongue, ‘my pie. No.’ Starr burns bright red, hiding in Hamilton’s chest. The man rolls his eyes, murmuring something idiotic, ‘please tell me you’re not in a relationship with him, Starr. You could do better,’ she teases. Hamilton squawks, half embarrassed and half annoyed.

With the Elves, it draws in Balfey and the Sakans. Juven gives her a million-watt smile, hugging her tight before straying off to stand next to Asteria; how adorable. Barbara greets her with enthusiasm, hugging her briefly before sticking close to Magda and Nyx. ‘She’s so _cool,’_ Lou hears Barbara whisper to Nyx. Balfey doesn’t do anything particularly special, greeting her with the usual _“how are you doing, sister?”_ but it’s clear he’s over the moon that she’s back to normal.

Rincole and Alminas give her a peaceful smile, welcoming her back. The birds surrounding Alminas, and she would never stop making fun of him for it, land in her hair, chirping happily. Rincole strums her harp, humming a soft tune that Lou loves, ‘this song sounds more like you now, sweet lady.’

Leslie and Harson are the last to join the group, but both wear matching expressions of bliss. ‘Congratulations, Lou,’ Harson’s voice warms up her soul, ‘I’m glad to have you back.’ She surges forward, crushing him in her arms. ‘I’m so happy right now, Harson!’

The butler has never been more relaxed, shoulders loose and skin wrinkling from smiles. ‘It has taken a long time, but being happy -- being who you are, I’m glad to have survived to see it happen.’ Lou hushes him, ‘nonsense! We all know that you would outlive us all.’ A cryptid smile is all the reply she gets.

Leslie shuffles up to her, ‘happy… that Lady Lou is back. Welcome home.’ She nods, trying to reach his shoulders for a hug. ‘It’s great to be home, Leslie. I look forward to future sword fighting, and I won’t lose.’ Leslie raises a brow, slightly amused, ‘I look forward to it, Lady Lou. But know that I won’t be lenient.’

‘Don’t forget me!’ Motiti clings to her legs, wailing. ‘I missed Lou too!’ Lou teeters to a side, unstable on her feet, ‘as do I, Motiti. Now, please, stand so I can hug you properly!’ Motiti climbs up of her like she was a tree, hugging her from behind. ‘Motiti loves Lou!’

‘I love you, too, Motiti.’ She replies warmly.

Her father stares at her, a foreign expression of doubt and guilt on his face. Hesitating, she decides to leave her safe space, assuring her friends that she would be alright. Slowly, she makes her way across the ballroom, towards a dark corner where he stood alone.

He startles when she stands in front of him. ‘Father…’ she starts, unsure of how to continue, ‘may I…. well,’ she gestures in short bursts, trying to ask him for a hug in the most perfect way possible.

She doesn’t have to, though, as her father pats her head, messing up her immaculate hair. Then, he encases her in a square, and she has to muffle her laughter and tears. He’s trying, though, and she can’t complain.

Lou closes up the gap between them, squeezing her father with snot and tears staining his clothes. She’ll probably get reprimanded for being such a disgrace later on, and punish her accordingly. But for now, this is her world. Nothing meant more to her than her father showing his love for her.

Her father rubs soothing circles into her back, grunting at a comment Tilla Jorcastle makes, telling her to buzz off and leave them alone. Tilla laughs, but there’s a genuine relief radiating from her.

She doesn’t notice that Motiti had gone back to cling to her legs until Nyx starts whining about how the maid had “took her spot” on Lou’s back, a moment ago. Her father raises an eyebrow, but says nothing, amused. Nyx jumps onto her back once more, causing her to lean closer to her left. Leslie stabilizes her, shaking his head in exasperation. Harson laughs, arms poised to catch anyone that falls.

She does want to stay in this hug forever, but Willow drags her back to the dogpile on the dancefloor, chortling when she falls into Magda’s arms. The rest of the ball is wasted away in the circle of friends, laughing and smiling until her face feels like it’s melted off.

‘Lou,’ her father calls. Dread piles up, her punishment is sure to be delivered now, She drags her feet for as long as she can, shrinking in on herself. ‘Lou,’ her father repeats, ‘I’m so sorry.’ She blinks, surprised. ‘I shouldn’t have restricted how you show affection. Nor should you be isolated to feel strong. Being strong is a journey filled with friendship, love, hurt, and death. There is no time to be isolated.’

She nods, a smile growing on her face. ‘I forgive you, Father.’ Her father breaks out into a tiny smile, small enough to be unnoticeable, but she’s his daughter. And this is the first step to mend the burnt bridges.

 

Lou walks the path of the strong, just like she was meant to.


	2. It Trickles in Like Strings of Sunlight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He feels something stir within him, frothing with discomfort and guilt.

“Lord Lou, what is your opinion on hugs?” He’d heard it from across the room and sighed. The Ellenstein girl did seem like the sort to ask such an… odd question. It wasn’t like she hadn’t said odder. He once heard her talk about baking with mercenaries. 

But he did want to know Lou’s response.

Guilt clawed inside of him. He knew how he was, quiet, strict, intimidating. He loved his daughters dearly, he just couldn’t find the words or actions to show it. His wife had been like a rainbow. Truly beautiful and magical; a sight to behold. But ever fleeting. When she was around, the flowers in the garden would grow that much brighter. The gold accents of the manor shone that much brighter. When his wife was around it was so much easier to just…   _ let go. _ To just be at home with his daughter.

But empty beds and joyless days can make any man bitter. 

He heard Lou’s voice, “I like hugs, personally.” He felt utterly  _ crushed,  _ though it would just come off as anger to anyone looking at him. It wasn’t like he hated hugs -- he just didn’t see any point to them. (It was something his wife would do when he was upset. But he’d never admit that her memory kept him from hugging people.) He had no idea Lou liked them. It had been so long since he’d even seen her shake hands. 

The Duke walked away from the scene. Not angry, but…  _ miffed.  _ Disappointed in himself, he opted to lurk near the side of the ball. Nyx glanced over and frowned. He shook his head and gave a small nod to keep mingling. That girl would look for any chance she could to read. 

Why he  _ had  _ adopted Nyx? He would be lying if he said it wasn’t a selfish reason. He wanted the manor to be bright again. So he brought the brightest thing he could find. Nyx’s cheery personality did nothing to break the Duke’s walls. He just found himself repeating the mistakes he’d made with Lou. But he wanted to be patient with Nyx. He gave her less tasks at first, then he let small mistakes slide. She would sneak a book into a ball and he would pretend not to notice. All the while, he noticed Lou growing more and more bitter.

Try as he might, he couldn’t ignore Lou; she was the spitting image of her mother. But he could see the damage he’d done. Hands held close to her chest, afraid to move closer to the Ellenstein girl. Fear of touch… He instilled that in her didn’t he? By forcing her away from the one thing he now realized kept her sane. He remembered Lou as a child happily clinging to every person she could find. 

Now she had walls even higher than his own. He growled to himself, looking away. He couldn’t remember the last time Lou had smiled. What he could remember was her paling face each time he gave her another list of tasks. Each small sliver of anger that slipped through her defences. She had to be strong. Yet he would lie to himself. Lou  _ was  _ strong. She cried when her mother died, yes, but she let her mother’s memory embolden her. She didn’t close herself off, unlike her father. Lou was always more mature than the adults around her. He couldn’t even talk to his daughter now. The way she shifted away from him, lied about why she stayed so much time at the Spire... It broke his already broken heart even more,

“How can I call myself  _ Grand Duke? _ I can’t even take care of my own child,” he muttered to himself. He sees Lou saying something, but he can’t hear it. The soldier inside of him is begging to just leave. The father inside wishes he had the words. The husband inside is apologizing to the wife who gave up everything to be smiling until her last breath. There was a cloud in the Duke’s mind, words contradicting themselves, mistakes and horrors blended into one. 

With a shaky breath, he shook the thoughts from his mind. Nyx had somehow snuck beside him.

“Are you okay, Papa?” The Duke found no words in his throat, he merely nodded. Nyx stared up at him, judging. He cleared his throat and watched her jump. He smiled on the inside,

“Go find Duchess Jorcastle. Perhaps she will teach you ways to get over your fear of large crowds.” he cringed internally, the words came out harsher than intended. With a sigh, Nyx left him. She’d argued with him to let Lou have some freedom. But the fear of his daughter feeling as miserable as he… 

He wouldn't lie any longer, actually placing his cane on the ground and leaning on it. He silently admitted, he'd become a stranger in familiar clothes. He silently wept, knowing how he'd projected his own insecurities and fear into his daughter. Who had punished her into hiding? Lou was strong, it was he who was weak. Lou didn’t need to distance herself so she wouldn't be hurt; It was the Duke who needed to let people in and stop hurting others. Lou shouldn't form any attachments lest they use her --  _ no, _ Lou needed friends. The Duke needed her to smile. So when he hears:

“I like hugs.” 

With a confidence and joy from his daughter that he’d thought he’d stupidly stamped out, he’s overcome, “they’re wonderful. A form of acceptance and co-dependence, I think. That one action is able to convey a million sentences and emotions, and it’s _amazing.’’_ Is that how his daughter felt? All those years of his ruthless oppression, yet she could still remember such a wonderfully poetic action, and… Lou’s way of talking about a hug… 

Seeing the little Ellenstein glow as she did, hugging his daughter… Seeing his daughter silently weep at the contact. He frowned, seeing Lou so overwhelmed. Yet when Nyx joined in, when the Jorcastle boy joined, the smile she wore -- it was enough for him. 

It meant his daughter could be alright.

Then the pile began to grow, soon the little Oren maid was sucked in. Harson, Alan, Willow, the idiot Sakan, Asteria, Alminas, Leslie, etc. They all laughed and yelled as Lou sat in the middle tears in her eyes as she smiled. Giving small messages of confirmation that she was happy. Being given messages of goodwill and relief because she was--

“Back.” A gift of pie, cheerful banter. This wasn’t a place for him. He closes his eyes, if only for a moment, but when he opens them, there stands his daughter. He’s startled, to say the least.

“Father… May I… well,” he can almost feel tears threaten to spill. How could she ask  _ him  _ for a hug after everything he’s done? Patting Lou’s head, he pulls her into a hug. There’s a gasp and tenseness. The Duke wondered if he’d done something wrong, but when Lou began to crush his middle, those fears dissipated. She sobbed into his chest, laughing and crying. For a moment, he too, finds bliss in the action. Forgetting the tears that were soaking his clothes, he can always buy more; but for now, he needed to love her daughter as she was meant to be loved.

He can’t help but revert to when she was a child and rub circles on her back. Glancing at Tilla, who gave a smug smile, she asks, “a hug? How affectionate of you.” It was banter, but the Duke had to fight back a grumble.

“Buzz off.” He doesn’t care for her smile afterwards nor her laugh. Only focused on his daughter in his arms. Nyx whines about her spot as a maid clings to Lou’s leg. The Duke is confused, but says nothing. He lets go if only to let Nyx jump on her older sister’s back. How he wants to apologize for not letting the girls hug… Leslie comes over too, and Harson, watching carefully to prevent any disasters. The duke continues his hug. Perhaps he would let the ball end this way. But there are guests to hug and Willow peels Lou away to the waiting arms of her friends.

He should apologize, not to resolve his many mistakes but to start the long process of doing so. So he spends the rest of the ball thinking of how he should approach the situation.

As the last guests leave, smiling faces and warm hearts the Duke shudders,

“Lou.” he hopes he doesn’t sound angry. The way Lou shrinks in and drags herself to him makes him cringe,

“Lou,” he’s a lot gentler this time, softer, “I’m so sorry.” her surprise fills him with guilt. He really should’ve done this sooner.

“I shouldn’t have restricted how you show affection. Nor should you be isolated to feel strong. Being strong is a journey filled with friendship, love, hurt, and death. There is no time to be isolated.” Her smile is infectious as he feels himself grin slightly.

“I forgive you, father.” the Duke nodded internally sighing of relief. He could never live without his daughters. Internally he decided he would hug them in the morning, and in the evening tomorrow. Hell, he would hug them everyday _._ He could afford that much, if it meant keeping his children in his life. If it meant seeing them smile.

That night, after he closes the door to his room. He takes a seat beside the picture of his wife, finally sheding a few tears as he brought the precious photo to his forehead,

“Perhaps there is still hope for me after all. Thank you for everything you’ve given me my queen. I hope it pleases you to know your-  _ our  _ daughter is smiling again.” he paused, looking at the picture once more,

 

“She walks the path of the strong. Just as she was meant to.”

**Author's Note:**

> Do tell us how you felt reading this! Kudos and comments are always welcome!


End file.
